The Chosen Few - The Joy of Many

The vibrant colors of Blackness amplified by the colors in the music, enhanced by colors beyond anything any rainbow could ever produce.

Representing nearly every tribe in the nation of Black, one nation under a groove once again. The Chosen Few.

The dictionary would tell you Blackness is where there is no light. We will tell you we are the light. Look at us and see it radiate. We are the sun. We bend rays to our will. We are the source. Watching us move en masse, a kaleidoscope so bright it hurts the eyes of those who cannot see the Black light.

Adorned in the colors of our Black organizations, bearing our sigils - royal purple and olde gold, red and white, pink and green, and combinations too countless to name. Enhanced by Blackness and the hues of our people. The Black light.

And then there is the reason for this annual gathering. The music. The Chosen Few. House music driven by beats that feel ancestral because they are ancestral - proving themselves timeless with every drop. A rhythm that hits you in the chest and dares you not to move. It is impossible not to. Your ancestors’ ancestors’ ancestors would recognize that vibration. They would feel that beat in their bones and know exactly what it means.

Then comes the joy. Black Joy. Seeing it on every face, hearing it in every conversation, feeling it deep in your soul with every laugh that rises from a crowd that knows exactly who it is.

I am convinced no other people on earth carry anything comparable to Black Joy. I’ve been in enough unmelanated spaces to say that with full conviction. Black Joy is unbridled and off the chain. When loosed into a crowd of thousands of Black people it becomes the most contagious and most beautiful force on earth. I said it more than once yesterday - if we could bottle this energy and sprinkle it across our communities, our neighborhoods, and the rest of our people, it would change the world. If we sprayed it like perfume across the planet it would heal our people and serve as a disinfectant to everything that seeks to diminish us. Some cannot catch what we carry. Something in their composition rejects it entirely.

I’m feeling the effects of that high today, infused with good bourbon, excellent cigars, and maybe a little Que oil. The lingering effects of Black Joy can last several days. And if you ever wonder how we manage adversity that would crush others - that’s your answer. It’s that little bottle of energy we refill at events like Chosen Few that carries us over until the next time the feeling hits.

We keep that bottle close. We always have.